


Pokémon Go Get a Boyfriend

by RogueMarks



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Harvard University, M/M, MIT, Pokemon - Freeform, Pokemon GO - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 05:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7495500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueMarks/pseuds/RogueMarks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two nerds are brought together by Pokémon Go.<br/>Having been playing it non-stop myself since it came out, I couldn't NOT write this AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pokémon Go Get a Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> I put too much time into thinking about how it would go down if Newt and Hermann met because of Pokémon Go, what their character names would be, what team they would choose, et cetera... So, here it is!
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely [linearoundmythoughts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/linearoundmythoughts/works) <3

Harvard's campus was perfection in the summer months. After Cambridge and the whole of Boston experienced their annual exodus of students come the end of May, it was frightening to witness the change, how the streets and parks became virtually empty, and Hermann couldn't ask for anything better. He didn't need to be here, he could have given himself a rest like the majority of his peers who have jumped ship to go on holiday, to move back home, to drown their tired brains in cheap beer—Hermann only wanted to keep his mind sharp, to have the upper-hand the week after Labor Day. Starting in September, a PhD student must stay on point and ensure that by the end of the spring semester he will become a PhD candidate. A sharp mind is paramount.

Hermann had a routine, spending his mornings in Crema poring over notes as he enjoyed his latte and chocolate croissant, leaving just before the lunch rush to migrate to the Innovation Lab, where he took advantage of the wealth of resources and blissful silence. Having inherited his mother's saccharine practicality, at 2pm every day he eats his brown-bagged lunch. There were plenty of social seating areas in the building, promising plush comfort and a small bistro table, but after Hermann looked outside and saw it was a gorgeous day, he decided it would be an absolute sin to ignore it. Packing his things, Hermann gave the work station a once-over, and descended the stairs.

He had his favorite bench—of course he did—tucked away in the shade of the courtyard. Dodging a tour group Hermann took to the grass, acorns crunching under his feet at each step. He enjoyed watching the squirrels, fat and happy from the wealth of oak trees and student hand-outs, guilty himself of tossing a few scraps of food every now and then when one approached his bench. It wasn't _his_ bench, of course, only his in the sense that Hermann sat there near daily, intimately familiar with the small names etched and written upon its planks, and someone else was sitting on it. Someone was sitting on _his_ bench.

Pausing twenty feet away Hermann felt his face turn red, staring at the man who was too engrossed in his phone to bother looking up. He didn't have much else to distinct him, dressed in frayed jeans and a black tee. Even his fingernails were black, accessory to the nose ring that glint under the dappled light as he shook his dark brunette mop in what appeared to be exasperation. Hermann's grip on his lunch tightened, crinkling the paper between his fingers. This was _his_ bench. He was _hungry_.

The young man looked up at the noise, pushing his thick-rimmed glasses back up the bridge of his nose, and smiled.

“Hey! Room for one more.” His invitation was too cheerful, patting the wood next to him. He looked and sounded too juvenile to be a threat, swiping and tapping at his phone as he bit his bottom lip. Hermann felt he had no choice. The young man wasn't being loud, and perhaps needed the company as his eyebrows knit all too suddenly, perhaps in the throes of an intimate conversation going south. With a sigh, Hermann took his seat, and began to unpack his lunch.

“That's a good idea,” the voice next to him gravelly chirped. “I've been here all day, bringing food is good planning, dude.”

Carefully taking a bite of his sandwich Hermann tried to ignore the small sounds that came from his neighbor but they were too emotive to drown out—dare he admit _cute_. Swallowing his first bite, he chanced small-talk.

“Are you a student here?”

Looking up from his phone the young man shook his head, bringing his knees up to plant his feet on the bench. “MIT,” he smiled. “But I'm on loan. Adjunct with Harvard Medical, actually. MIT is nuts right now, I discovered this place just yesterday and like, no one's here. I'm shocked.”

Hermann was dumbfounded, trying to parse how the punk kid next to him was an adjunct to Harvard. Yet, he seemed of like-mind, and exceptionally more intriguing.

“Yes, it is nice and quiet here,” he agreed, comfortably forging into the rest of his PB&J.

“Yeah man, no obnoxious kids screaming and running around, no tourists. At least on this part of campus,” the young man laughed, and tapped at his phone. “So, what team are you on?”

Hermann was mid-bite, confused, looking quizzically at his bench-mate's growing smirk. He carefully squint his eyes in offense. “That's a little forward, wouldn't you think?”

“Oh come on, it's no huge secret or anything,” the young man practically purred, turning to drape his arm over the back of the seat as he leaned in. “Lemme guess,” he scrutinized. “ _Valor?_ ”

Hermann swallowed. “Pardon?”

“No?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about...”

“Pokémon Go, dude!”

Hermann did nothing to entertain the gibberish that came out of the other's mouth, staring blankly. In an effort to jog his memory, the young man only repeated himself.

“Pokémon Go? You know, Pokémon? Pikachu? 'Gotta catch 'em all?'” His name only increased in octave with each question, mirroring Hermann's own perplexed look as he progressed.

Of course Hermann knew, reliving fond memories of when him and his siblings wasted an entire summer playing together before their father confiscated their consoles. His association with the game all of a sudden became quite bitter, as did his demeanor.

“I have better things to do with my time than play childish games, thank you,” Hermann huffed, violently finishing the last bits of crust before snatching the brown bag from its place on the bench. He stormed off, making his way back into the Lab without a second glance, not pausing until he felt the air conditioned breeze of the lobby. He sighed, taking a seat within view of the entrance. The young man was gone from the shaded spot across the courtyard, nowhere to be seen.

“Yay, we caught it!”

“Yeah but I wasted like, twenty Pokéballs. I'll have to walk outside to the stops to get more but I'm stuck here for two more hours.”

Hermann recognized the summer staff—a young blonde undergrad in the engineering department and his friend who looked of high-school age, far too young to be in college. By mid-June they finally exchanged names having crossed paths in Hermann's studious schedule at least four times a week. Raleigh was the actual employee, kept company by Professor Pentecost's daughter, Mako. Her insistence upon spending her summer vacation in a college library was unconventional, but Hermann considered her behavior positively laudable, if not relatable.

“Yo, Hermann!” Raleigh called across the lobby. Normally such volumes were frowned upon, but the academic year wasn't in session. “You catch that Fearow?”

The addressed cleared his throat weakly, and mumbled. “I don't have it. I'm, uh, not playing...”

“Do you want to?” Mako's cheerful tone heavily outweighed Hermann's new-found social exile. At first he felt angry, now he just felt left out. Digging into his pocket he ruefully looked at his phone.

“Download it, it's free! We can help you.” She trotted over, planting herself down next to Hermann. For a half hour, Mako walked him through the basics, setting up his account and helping him create his character. Having been introduced to Professor Willow—a rather handsome looking fellow to which Hermann would never openly admit—his phone buzzed.

“Oh!” Three familiar looking sprites popped in range on his phone.

“Choose your starter, man. Choose wisely,” Raleigh winked from across the room, stuck at the front desk but no doubt still playing, himself. Thrust back to his younger self, Hermann made his decision quickly.

“Okay, now you need to throw the Pokéball at it, like this,” Mako flicked her finger in the air. Hermann mimicked her action, flinging the ball off to the side, hitting the tan floor and rolling miserably off-screen. The girl excitably squeezed Hermann's arm, encouraging him to try again for a successful second attempt.

“Great! You'll get the hang of it,” she promised, smiling sweetly up at him.

“Yeah, you'll be like DrKAIJU in no time,” Raleigh laughed, the name delivered around a heavy dose of sarcasm. Lifting her own phone Mako rotated her map to showcase the courtyard Hermann was just in. A grandiose blue-colored landmark set just off-center appeared to spin, flanked by two smaller blue cubes nearby.

“Whoever that is, they've owned that gym since Friday. Can you believe it?” Mako huffed.

Raleigh grumbled behind his desk in agreement. “Yeah, some kind of savant-prodigy. How do you even get a twelve-hundred Vaporeon yet?”

Hermann had an idea who they were talking about, but kept it to himself. Standing he thanked them both, intrigued enough by the app's VR interface to distractedly make his way back upstairs, pausing halfway up for an encounter. Down the atrium Raleigh laughed. Hermann was a lost cause.

For the next two hours the game ran in the background, encouraging Hermann to pace the halls periodically, expanding his Pokédex one entry at a time. Two hours became three, and four, and soon enough the sun began to set beyond the windows, just shy of eight in the evening. Hermann didn't need to pack before he left the building, relieved to find the instigators at the front desk long gone.

Across the dimly lit courtyard a figure could just be made out, lying across half the bench, legs danging over the arm rest. Hermann took a breath, and began to walk. The young man appeared completely ignorant of his surroundings, headphones trailing up from his pocket and hidden within his hair. Hermann cleared his throat. And Again. A third time, and waved. The other flipped around to an upright position so fast, it was impressive how he managed not to fall off completely.

“Hello, um, may I take a seat?”

The young man nodded, doe-eyed as he plucked the buds from his ears. “Yeah man, sure.” He was otherwise silent, tapping as he had been hours before, making not so much as a sigh. Hermann stared down at his own phone, curiously looking at the blue gyroscope to his left, and tapped on it. And again. A third time, and groaned.

“Here,” the young man leaned over, having sat cross-legged on the far end of the bench. “These are stops. You spin them, like this.” In demonstrating, items poured out and onto the phone's screen to which Hermann poked at rather wildly, summoning a small chuckle next to him. “Don't worry, you can't miss 'em. You can just hit the X and they'll go into your inventory without having to tap on all of them,” he explained. “They reset every five minutes or so, the stops. They'll go from purple to blue again.” Nodding Hermann thanked him, repeating the action at the adjacent stop to the right. They sat like this for an entire cycle, five minutes of uncomfortable silence until it was broken by a single gasp.

“Omigod omigod omigod...” The young man sung his litany, standing up and turning around in a circle.

“What, what is it?”

“An Arcanine, dude! Two steps away, come on!”

Hermann's hand was taken, his body tugged from the bench. He looked down at his phone, having seen nothing but the gym and two stops since he stepped outside.

“How do you know?” He glanced down at his phone, looking for what the other was clearly more knowledgeable of. He was led across the grass, matching the young man's pace just before his guide turned around, making them crash into each other, but neither moved.

“Sorry,” the smaller man giggled, ducking his head and biting his lip. “Uh, I think it's this way, c'mon.” They embarked on a slower chase, one hand cradling their phones, the other linked together as they walked. Hermann couldn't help but grin, walking along from lamp-light to lamp-light, kicking acorns with each step. Lost in the moment Hermann collided with him once again when he came to a sudden full stop.

“There!” the young man's bleat broke the momentary bliss. Hermann chanced a look down at his own phone and, sure enough, a large tiger-striped dog appeared across the street. He tapped on it, and became equally as engaged, having completely forgotten they had been just holding hands.

“Here, you can spin the ball like this and curve it.” Using physics to his advantage Hermann gave it a try, spinning his fingertip in a semi-circle and earned himself a 22CP Arcanine for his efforts. The smaller figure pressed into him, staring intently at Hermann's phone as the Pokémon registered to the Pokédex. The other practically vibrated with excitement, beaming, green eyes glistening in their proximity as he looked up.

“Congratulations—” the young man paused, reaching around to poke at Hermann's phone. “TuringsBoy,” he read. The namesake went pink, his nerdy cover blown but then again he was just led hand-in-hand through a dark park by a man who spent his entire day glued to a bench. He cleared his throat.

“And I assume you're DrKAIJU?” Hermann asked. He didn't need to extend his hand far, ending not in a handshake but a delicate grasp. The other nodded.

“Newton. Call me Newt.”

“Hermann, a pleasure. Am I to believe you are a real doctor or is that only for show?”

A flush overwhelmed the freckles on Newton's face. Attempting to hold up four fingers without dropping his phone or the hand comfortably slotted in his he stated, “Four of them—doctorates—for now.” Raleigh was right, the man was a prodigy. Sensing Hermann's doubt, Newt nervously changed the subject.

“Hey, uh... I'm pretty hungry. Would you maybe want to like, get dinner or something? With me?” Brows furrowed and lips pulled taught in a hopeful smirk, how could one say no?

“I would like that.” Hermann squeezed the smaller hand in his, earning a gentle pulse in return. They began to walk towards the square, deciding upon food as they went.

Hermann has a routine, meeting Newton in Crema, sneaking coffee-laden kisses as they enjoyed their lattes and chocolate croissants, leaving just before the lunch rush to migrate to the Innovation Lab where they look advantage of the empty rooms and blissful privacy. Having become tradition, at 2pm every day they share a brown-bagged lunch. There were plenty of social seating areas in the building, promising optimal intimacy on plush seats, but they have their bench where they talk, and kiss, and defend a Pokémon gym— _together_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Glad I got that off my chest, phew! Now if you'll excuse me I have some Pokémon to catch...


End file.
